A Leopard and Its Spots

A LEOPARD AND ITS SPOTS

“So, what’s the catch?”

I looked across the table at Anna, my best friend.

“I can’t believe that you and Kevin are inviting me to dinner at Chez Chic just because you like me. Why so fancy?”

“Weeellll,” said Anna, “Kevin’s friend from university, Colin, is in town, and Kevin thought that maybe you’d like to join us, and —“

“No.”

“Cami!”

“No,” I repeated adamantly. “I do not do blind dates.”

“It’s not a blind date.”

“Are you and Kevin inviting me to a fancy restaurant to meet Kevin’s buddy, Colin?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s a blind date.”

“No!” said Anna, emphatically. “It is NOT a blind date. Colin is just in town for a couple of days on business, and we thought you two would get along well.”

“Why did you think that?” I asked, cocking my head to the side, daring her to change my mind.

“Well, he’s the same age as you. He’s recently ended a serious relationship—'

“I did not recently end a relationship. Barry decided to go to Nepal, and find himself. He did not ask me to join him. I was blindsided, and then he left. So, unless Colin’s former partner went to Nepal to meet up with Barry, not the same thing.”

“Fine. But you’re both single. So, there’s that.”

I stared at Anna.

“Please,” she begged. “If you do this, we’ll be forever in your debt.”

“Why is this so important?”

“Well, because Kevin wants to impress Colin. Colin’s family is rich, and he always had everything handed to him. Kevin had to work hard to get ahead, and now he’s got a good job, and well, he wanted to show off a bit to Colin.”

“And I’m part of that show-off?”

“Yes, unless you’re offended, then no, we thought that the two of you would get along well.” Anna smiled.

I thought about it. Did I have the right clothes for Chez Chic? No. Did I want to give up my night on the couch with popcorn and a good book? No. Was Anna my best friend? Yes. And, was this important to Anna? Again, yes.

“Well, I don’t know when I’ll get the opportunity to eat at Chez Chic on someone else’s dime, so sure, why not.”

Anna squealed and jumped up and gave me a hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“So, tonight. We’ll pick you up at seven, reservations are at seven-thirty. We’re gong to have a fantastic time!”

I wasn’t so sure, but I agreed.

When I got home, I fed Biscuit our — no, scratch that — my dog, and took him for a quick walk. When I got home, I started to get ready. I surveyed my wardrobe. Well, nothing to the standards of Chez Chic, but I did have my LBD — little black dress — some nice shoes, some pearls, and a pretty fancy jacket, so at least I wouldn’t be barred entrance for not looking the part.

Just as I was getting my makeup on, my phone range. It was Anna.

“Please, please, please don’t hate me.”

“What?” I asked.  

The reservations are at seven, not seven-thirty. I’m sorry.”

“It’s six-thirty now,” I said.

“We’re on the way to your place now.”

I looked around my room. I wasn’t ready. There was no way I was going to be ready in time.

“Don’t bother. I’m not ready. You go ahead, and I’ll call an Uber and meet you there.”

I walked into the restaurant at 7:14 — what I like to call fashionably late, or what I thought would be fashionably late if I'd ever had the opportunity to be fashionably late.

I spotted Anna, Kevin and the back of the head of someone I assumed was Colin by the window in the dining room. Anna spotted me, and waved me over.

When I arrived at the table, Kevin stood, as did Colin.

“Cami, I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Colin. Colin, this is Cami.”

I was stunned. I knew Colin, from a long time ago. He’d dated my roommate in university, and had treated her horribly. He was a jackass.

I stuck out my hand. “Pleased to meet you,” I said.

Colin looked at me, puzzlement in his eyes.

“Do we know each other?” he asked.

I looked him straight in the eyes and said, “No, I don’t think so.”

We ordered dinner, and chatted. It was quite lovely. And the food lived up to all the hype. I caught Colin sneaking surreptitious glances at me, trying to place me.

I ignored him.

We were almost finished dinner, when he snapped his fingers, and pointed at me.

“You were Fiona’s roommate, weren’t you?”

I paused. Aside from my knowledge of Colin’s behaviour ten years prior, he had been perfectly amenable, an interesting conversationalist. Had he changed? Do leopards change their spots. Spoiled rich guy, with spoiled rich friends.

“Yes, that’s right. Now I remember.” I smiled sweetly.

Well, now it was in the open now. How would he react? Would he badmouth Fiona? Would he make excuses for his behaviour? Would he lay the blame at Fiona’s feet? Would he ignore the history that we both knew? Pretend it never happened?

“I was such a jerk to her,” he said.

I nodded, slightly, watching his face.

“I never took the time to apologize to Fiona. I’m such an ass.”

There was an awkward silence at the table.  

“Sorry,” he said to Kevin and Anna. “This was before I met Kevin. Man, I was horrible. What happened to Fiona?”

“I could tell you that because of the way that you had treated her she quit school, dropped out of society, and, last I heard, was living rough, on the streets.”

Colin’s jaw dropped.

“Oh, my God. I … I … I didn’t …”

“But that’s not the truth.” I smiled.

A look of relief came over Colin’s face.  

“She was sad for a while, but then decided that she was better without all the glamor and drama. She realized that (a) you were a jerk, (b) she deserved better, and (c) not all guys were jerks. She married a nice guy, and they’re expecting their first child.”

Anna and Kevin were invested in the story now. They looked at me, then over to Kevin.

“Why don’t you tell them about the time you took Fiona to a hallowe’en party, and told her that it was a costume party? And it wasn’t. How you found that really funny.” I suggested.

“Oh man, I forgot about that. She was mortified” He looked chagrined. "No wonder she dumped me."

“Or the time you took her to a fancy party up in the hills, with a house full of people that she did not know, and you left with a bunch of your ‘bros’ and didn’t come back to get her?”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, she had to call me to come get her because she didn’t have enough money to cab it home.”

Silence.

“Or the time you picked out a designer dress for her to wear to meet your parents, but she had to pay for it. She was working part-time, minimum wage in the bookstore. She had to borrow the money from me to make her credit card payment.”

Colin looked chastened.  

“I never thought …”

“That’s right, Colin, you never thought. You were rich, all your friends were rich, and Fiona wasn’t. You never gave it a second thought.”

“I was a jerk. I could never understand why she broke up with me.”

“You were inconsiderate, arrogant, self-centred, and juvenile. I think she described you as a spoiled brat.”

Kevin started to laugh. 

“Oh, man! That’s exactly what my mom said about you when she met you! That you were a spoiled brat!”

“Yeah, my friend Didi — you remember her? You dated her for about a minute? She called you a spoiled brat, as well.”

We were all looking at Colin, who was looking at the table.

“That was a common refrain that I heard often when I was younger. That I needed to grow up.”

Kevin took pity on his friend.

“Mom says that you’re much better now that you’re older. She was really surprised that you got a job — in your family’s firm — but a job none-the-less.”

“Yeah,” said Colin, “sometimes I wonder if I could have gotten a job in the real world if it weren’t for my family.”

He was silent for a few seconds.

“Did you know, my family cut me off when I finished school?”

Kevin shook his head.

“Yup. Dad told me he was not going to let the business suffer because of the third generation curse.”

“The what?” asked Anna.

“The first generation builds the company, the second generation improves the business, and the third generation squanders the money, and the business either suffers or dies. Dad said no way. I either started at the bottom, or I got my own job. I started at the bottom.”

“And?” I asked.

“Well, after the mailroom, I had to work in all the departments and understand how they functioned. I also only earned the same salary as those who were teaching me. Dad figured that way I’d appreciate the struggles of the people who made our company work, and better understand the lifestyle of those without a trust fund. Dad was a smart man. It is hard to make it day-by-day, without any safety net. Now, ten percent of my salary goes to charity, and I spend two days a month volunteering at a legal aid office.”

“Wow,” said Kevin. “I never knew. Good for you, man. That’s great”  

“Yeah, good for you!” said Anna, patting Colin on the shoulder.

I smiled. Maybe he had changed.

But not enough to let Kevin pay the bill. Big dogs still gotta bark.

On the way out, he asked me, “What did Fiona end up doing?”

“Well, she completed her degree in biology, and went on to get her MD, and her PhD in psychiatry. She’s got a thriving practice, and also counsels underprivileged children who are struggling, mentally. She has a non profit to support her work.”

“Wow. Do you know the name of her charitable foundation? Maybe I could make a donation.”

I gave him Fiona’s business contacts.

“I think you should contact her, and see if she’s interested. Not to put too fine a point on it, you were a bit of an a-hole, and I’m not sure she’d welcome your help.”

“True. But I’ll give it a try. Maybe I can make amends.”

Hmmm, I thought, maybe a leopard can change its spots.